


Concerning family

by FakeCirilla9



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Family Drama, Family Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeCirilla9/pseuds/FakeCirilla9
Summary: A story of one proposal, inspired by Pirates of the CaribbeanWritten for Fëanorian Week 2020, day 7: Fëanor, proposal.
Relationships: Anairë/Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë, Fëanor | Curufinwë & Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë, Fëanor | Curufinwë & Finwë, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20
Collections: Feanorian Week 2020





	Concerning family

It wasn't that Fingolfin didn't rejoice his older brother paid them a visit along with his wife and son. He visited so rarely. Usually, Fingolfin wanted him to stay longer, came more often; he had tried to talk to him on many occasions but his brother was always so busy with some new brilliant project. Though he always found time to share his achievements in writing with king Finwë or work together with his wife or talk to his child on any subject. Perhaps he deemed his younger brother insufficiently learned in craft yet but it was hard to accept such an excuse while seeing him explaining arcana of metallurgy to a toddler upon his lap.

Still, Fingolfin never gave up trying.

Only today, exceptionally, Fingolfin wished to speak with his father on a delicate issue.

And it was hopeless to try and win his attention when his beloved oldest son was close at sight. So after a few unsuccessful attempts, Fingolfin sat miserably at the royal table picking at his food with a golden fork on a silver plate left pretty much to himself.

There was his mother also and sister in law but Nerdanel engaged Indis in a talk, gesturing lively as if she strived to make up for her husband blunt ignorance of his father's second wife.

Fëanor and Finwë talked only to one another or rather Fëanor talked and Finwë listened looking at him with pride and fondness like one could only feel towards his firstborn genius son. Fingolfin sighed. He was neither of these things.

His mother read his sigh wrongly or she had enough of the charade. Either way, ignoring Fingolfin's desperate signs not to, she spoke up, addressing the king out of turn.

"Your son wishes to speak with you."

She touched Fingolfin’s shoulder lightly as if wanting to indicate which son she talked about. Finwë’s eyes allured with the movement fell upon Fingolfin. He beheld his second offspring as if only noticing his presence at the table.

"Yes?" He asked

Fëanor looked displeased. Nerdanel looked daggers at Fëanor. Indis looked encouragingly at her son. Fingolfin swallowed.

"Anairë is visiting her acquaintances at the coast and her stay is neighing an end. So I decided that will be the best time. I would like to make my proposal."

"To that Teleri girl, yes?"

"Actually, she's of Vanyar."

"Of course."

Fëanor sneered. Nerdanel kicked him under the table, then smiled apologetically at the rest of the table party.

"Well," Fingolfin didn't want to lose the precious moment of father’s favours as the king eyes flicked dangerously to his oldest again, "what do you say to that, father? Do you approve?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, of course, you have my blessing."

Fingolfin opened his mouth to thank but Finwë was already turning towards Fëanor.

"Did you try these, son?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't mind second helping. It's delicious, dad."

***

"Do you need to go that quickly? You will rouse him and he’s just fallen into sleep," protested Fëanor, seeing little reddish head bounce in the sling in times with Nerdanel strides.

"Don't even talk to me, you uncouth rascal.”

"Nel, why are you like that?"

"Can't you guess? You really don't know what reason I have to be angry at you? Don't pretend stupid, Fëanor. It doesn't suit you."

"Well, indeed I don't know what reason _you_ could have to be angry at me. I did nothing that concerns you."

"So you think husband behaviour does not affect his wife? You aren't only your own person anymore. You have duties. Think about your family next time and, for Eru’s sake, act like it's appropriate for a prince and not a spoilt brat!"

"I do think you exaggerate it a bit."

"Mahal’s beard," muttered Nerdanel, taking off the sling and handing Fëanor the bundle. "Take him."

Fëanor took the child carefully, smiling at the awaken, yet calm face and big grey eyes blinking at him sleepily.

"Now I'm going to Eärwen. You two can wait or return home."

"But.."

"What?"

"We were supposed to go together! To see the process of weaving the net cages for pearl hunting.”

Fëanor looked utterly shuttered like a child robbed of a movable toy.

"That was before you decided to ruin your brother’s mood in the morning of such an important day for him.”

" _Half_ -brother."

"Be glad you hold Nelyo or I'd cuffed you! Will you ever stop that?! Sometimes I wonder why I married you!"

Nerdanel turned on her heel, leaving Fëanor burdened with childcare.

“Seems like we stayed alone, little one. What would you like to do? Walk along the coast? Listen to some story? Do you know the meaning of your name, Nelyafinwë?” Fëanor asked.

The baby did not answer.

“It means _third Finwë._ Because you’re the third son in the line of Noldor kings. Of these that matter. Never mind the unsupported claims of those that would steal from us.”

The child listened in silence to his father’s voice.

***

At the same time further up the beach, where the sandy cliff had been bricked by Noldor into a solid wall of a port, two elves stood upon the embankment.

“You must know what I brought you here for, Anairë.”

“Indeed I do not, my lord.” Anairë answered courteously but seeing Fingolfin’s expression she quickly added with an encouraging smile: “but perhaps I suspect.”

Fingolfin searched his mind frantically for all the compliments he had prepared but they all evaporated.

“You look lovely today,” he went at least with a cliché. “That is, not that usually you do not, because you do. Look beautiful. Every day. I am sorry, I rarely stumble so with the words but today I feel like I was charging a hundredfold enemy all on my own.”

“Am I so scary, then?”

“Yes. That is, no. No, of course not.”

Anairë reached out with her hand but then decided against it and stepped aside a bit to give him some space.

“What a lovely sight,” she noted, looking at the sea glistening with sunrays and jewels. “So, what were you saying, my lord? That I look lovely as well?”

“Yes. And I wanted to, if I may be so brash…”

 _Hardly brash after such a long courtship_ , mused Anairë but did not comment out loud as to not scare him off. Least she would wait another decade for some progress in their relationship.

“I wish to say that I love you, Anairë, with all my heart and I wish us to commit myself to you. I wouldn’t dare to presume anything of such kind but you seemed to favour me in these past few years. So… what would you say, Anairë? Are you willing to-”

“Willing?” Anairë whirled around with all the grace of a Vanya in a dance. “I’m not simply willing, I am overjoyed! I am so happy I wish to dance in celebration. Oh, Fingolfin, I-”

She made another few sylphlike steps but she misjudged the distance between herself and the end of the cliff, tripped over one loose stone in the crenellation and went down.

“ANAIRË!” Fingolfin cried out.

***

“See the rubies, emeralds and sapphires on the seabed? These were strewn there by the Noldor too. Would you like to throw one in?”

Fëanor searched his pockets for spare jewels when suddenly there sounded a great plash of something decidedly bigger than a gemstone falling into the water. Fëanor looked upon the battlements above and seeing his brother’s appalled face understood what happened immediately. He glanced at the two gaping fishermen nearby.

“Won’t you go rescue her?” he prompted.

“We can’t swim, your highness.”

“You’re Teleri, aren’t you? Don’t all Teleri swim like fishes? Oh, never mind. Watch him for me.”

He handed Maedhros to the nearest elf and jumped from the pier himself. Strong arms of a blacksmith brought him to the reinforced cliff swiftly. She managed to get her head above the waves but was spluttering water and flapping her hands blindly. When Fëanor approached her, Anairë clang to him like a drowning cat.

When they made it ashore, Fingolfin was already there, breathing hard after he'd run down the winding stairs from the platform above.

Anairë went to him and he embraced her, not caring that she wets his royal attire and that the crowd was gathering around them.

"Are you all right, love?"

"Yes, yes and yes, I will marry you if that is what you meant by the commitment."

Fëanor, standing beside and dripping wet, with his red plain tunic clinging to his body, was starting to feel annoyed as he watched the oh-so-gentlemanly Fingolfin covering Anairë with his own royal coat bearing his father's emblems.

Finally remembering who's the hero, Fingolfin raised his eyes at him.

"I thank you, brother," he said in earnest.

Fëanor felt the usual ire sparkle within him and the livid ' _half_ ' was at the tip of his tongue, but then he spotted red hair of his wife and son among the onlookers and he said nothing. Nerdanel was looking at him with awe and in the warmth of that gaze, he could even ignore his pretentious sibling for a while.


End file.
